


Home is where the heart is

by Saniika



Series: Yuki-onna AU [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Day 5, Domovoi - Freeform, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, NSFW Yurio Week, Porn With Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Russian Mythology, Voyeurism, mari enjoys it but there is technically no consent, mario - Freeform, zashiki warashi - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2018-12-30 07:50:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12104100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saniika/pseuds/Saniika
Summary: Yuri spends centuries in the service of various Russian and Japanese families as a golden child - the fortune bringing goose. He finds himself at Yutopia, about to be given away, and he makes a choice. He is set to stay a while and choose a new family among the visiting guests. However he doesn't expect to find a need to stay. Not for the house or family, but for a woman. Mari Katsuki is so...off putting.





	1. Hard Candy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Phayte](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phayte/gifts).



> !WARNING: This story does not have Victor or Yuuri - if they'll appear I'll just mention them. It's a much darker turn than I usually write. There is technically no consent in this chapter, I tagged accordingly - it is non con. However I do not revel in pain or rape, that is not part of the story. This is the only warning. I do not concern myself with age of Yuri here, since he is a spirit and they don't have an age. He was around for centuries, you are free to imagine how he looks like.
> 
> I recommend to read upon Domovoi and Zashiki warashi. Both spirits are very similar, but differ. I found them both very interesting and decided that Yuri is in his origin a Domovoi but during his travel in Japan he is recognized as Zashiki Warashi. He uses that to his advantage.
> 
> This has no beta.

Once again it happens. Over and again. Yuri is tired of it, so much he is surprised he is not as angry about it anymore. Humans will never change, so he learned to not expect anything good from them. Yet the disappointment from them never learning, that’s hard for him to live down still and he didn’t get over this sensation even after centuries. 

So it does hurt. The spoiled hope for… a stable home, security and acceptance. So easily passed away and about to be sold. For money, favor, fame or promise of further prosperity. His family is here at the in onsen. The head of the household is stopping by here for the night. Tomorrow morning they will head to the Emperor and he will be transferred to his ownership. As cattle. Something you keep in a stable and milk it till it runs dry.

His limbs tremble, stomach fills with bile and he doesn’t give it a full free flow just for the sake of pride. He will not lose patience over humans, despicable weak beings, greedy disgusting beings. Oh no, not this time. He won’t even go through the basic politeness of leaving their household with respect.

He looks at his owner, seeing the faint yellowish aura around him. Color of greed. The man speaks excitedly about Yuri, his great dancing talents and skills in archery. He’ll make a great servant boy in Emperor’s service, he is just so sure. The guests at the onsen listen to his boisterous talk, the help is moving around giving little pause. They also want to listen to the telling so they get tardy in their usual speed of their service. Yet no one chides them, it’s somewhat slow establishment, lax in strictness for the lack of the better word.

In the back of his mind Yuri notes it’s strange and foolish, considering a place depending on the essential flock of guests steers the business with such a non aggressive strategy. If he’d be the owner, things would change around here for sure. His thoughts are disrupted by the constant buzzing of the man’s talk, like grasshoppers in the heat of the season devouring everything in sight. The yellow aura shines brighter and it’s unpleasant to even look at him for a second longer. That’s it, that settles it. No more fucking grace for this treacherous family. He throws the sticks on the table and looks intently for the last time at the man, who is still lost in his monologue. 

“I am tired, I’m going to rest.” 

No human hears what he says and even if they did, it wouldn’t be what they would hear. Yuri finds most of the people hear only what they want to anyway. The man isn't suppose to hear the words on a conscious level. The primal inside him does respond to the words anyway. Just like pray feels the coming tingling on their spine before the predator attacks.

“I hope you’ll fucking die the worst possible way on the way back home. The Emperor shall strip you of all privileges for not delivering him your gift. Your family shall wither from plague and follow you to afterlife soon after. Maybe when you become a malignant spirit, I hope you will be of a low class so I can torture you. If you ever come under my foot, I’ll squash you under my foot like overcooked pumpkin.”

The charm makes the man stutter in his speech and he seems to forget what he was saying. The power of the words is settling deep inside his bones. Yuri doesn’t stay any second longer and leaves the banquet room. On the way out he’s bumped into. Or more he bumps into someone.

A smaller woman, who’d he ignore at the first glance. She’s part of the help, clutches to the tray as she moves out of his way in polite manner. Her cheeks are little flushed, but she doesn’t look him in the eyes. A tobacco smell brushed over his neck and he sees her hair flash with streaks of bleached hair. Unpleasant encounter to say the least. It will stay branded in his mind for a while that’s for sure. He didn’t stay at such non refined place for a long time. Maybe it’s good to have a change of pace. Until he finds another family he can latch onto. It will have to do. He suffered worse before and can handle discomfort of this kind easily.

The next day he enjoys eating breakfast and listening to the talk of the older man called Toshiya. He confides in his wife Hiroko. The rich guest left deep in the night, he seemed disoriented and forgot why he came there. He left a hefty sum and insisted that the onsen keeps it. It looked like he was preparing for leaving everything behind. They hope he didn’t go for a trip to kill himself. Maybe they should go to the authorities?

One glance at them and they switch to a different topic, forget all about the guest or causing a stir. Simple magic command is all that is needed - no one remembers, no one questions why a foreign looking boy stays at the onsen. Yuri is pleased. It’s an easy place to handle and seems the family is simple work. Maybe he’ll stay longer and takes his time selecting a new host. Onsen is a good place to linger at because guests arriving means he’ll be able to choose from a wider selection.

By the time the lunch rolls in he takes the moments to walk around the premises confirming his initial observations. The place is...shabby. It’s kept very well all the same. Every room has some faults, but the reparation or placement of some object or fabric makes it appear very cozy and lived in. No money is invested in purchasing new material or furnishing. Everything is recycled. Yuri, used to better houses to linger at, has to admit it creates a very comfortable atmosphere. It’s similar to the old small house he stayed at as a young spirit. In the faraway land, covered in snow and sheltered by pines. A lone man living inside it with the warmest touch despite his rough hands.

He arrives at the porch and considers for a moment to wrap himself in disguise and become invisible. The woman from before sits on the porch and blows smoke from her kiseru. Lax posture leaves her body relaxed and she almost lays down on the wooden boards. The deep reddish cherry wood is polished so well she is reflected on it in a silhouette. It’s bothersome. Doesn't make sense that so much care put into something old, as if it were a palace floor instead of a rundown business. 

_Why don’t they invest the zeal into expanding the place? To acquire more guests. They could become a popular ryokan too... If they wanted._

Yuri is so irritated he forgets to hide and tries very hard not to kick the waitress to her butt. It’s like watching a sloth taking a sunbath. She catches the sight of him and clumsily gathers her composure. So maybe she does give a damn about her service? Maybe she wants to appear professional after all? He steps in closer, interested about what’s gonna happen. 

“You want to join me for a smoke?” Her voice is a little raspy and the sentence stretches on in the humid air just like earthworm does in muddy earth. Rain rustles in the moment which draws between her questions and his answer.

_Ah. Maybe not. It’s really too much to hope for after all._

Despite his displeasure he sits down next to her and watches as she fishes for another pipe in her sleeve. Blush is adorning her cheeks. She is flustered and somewhat nervous.

_Ah. Of course. The sight of a blonde boy in pretty kimono must work on her as well. He likes his clothing, who wouldn’t like a broad obi with tigers painted on them? It's nice to look at and admire it. Yet, he is not stupid. He knows what effect he has on people. It's not just about the clothes. They used to say he looks like a fairy. A magical child. An angel._

His eyes slide over her neck down to her breasts and wide hips. She was surely told she’d be a fertile mother. Yet the poorly bleached hair. It’s not unusual for women to try making their hair pale. But she seems so tardy and rough. Her arched eyebrows are thick and look like she never plucks them. She has pierced ears adorned with several pairs of earrings. She’d fit more in a brothel. He just shakes his head. He can’t seem to look away. 

_She is so...off putting._

“White or black?” She asks offering him the selection of pipes. She must be an avid smoker. 

“Black.”

They sit beside each other in silence and Yuri likes it. She’s not asking questions like other humans which can’t seem to help themselves. She doesn’t try to touch his fair hair or his clothes in wonder. She still sports the blush on her cheeks and small smile is spread on her lips, but she doesn’t say anything. She seems to simply enjoy his company without asking anything in return.

It’s odd. And it makes him restive. He doesn’t have this effect on people, they always want something so the reflex to repay or justify this makes his fingers twitch. He’s staring holes at her knee and thinks on how it would feel if he slid his palm over her inner pant seam. Would she expect that and lay down - let him do more? Turn into that submissive sheep. Or would she take his hand deeper between her legs and press her bosom on his shoulder? The pleasure greedy lascivious leech?

He is so absorbed by the thoughts, hypnotized by the heavy pouring rain, that he startles when she stands up. She’d being called into the kitchen. She gives him a small bow and says he can keep the pipe. Then she’s gone.  
Yuri finds she forgot to take her pipe and tobacco tray. Messy. He think on how it would look like if they were serious and worked towards success. He’d really like to see that. Just out of curiosity. He takes her pipe and takes a drag. It tastes after flowery lozenges. Nothing like the sophisticated candy he was given in the best households to keep him in good grace. 

_What a cheap family._

Maybe, maybe they could be polished into success. If he’d take them on. For a while. It couldn’t hurt? Until he’s bored and moves on, that is. Tonight he’ll feed of of her. She is so irritating, but it will be fun and he’ll enjoy himself immensely. He can’t wait until the sun hides behind the horizon.

When the ghost hour arrives, he slips on the corridors quietly as a cat. He really likes this part, the first stages of latching onto a person. Later he will run around and scare people with abandoned laughter, but now he has to be cautious. It’s like a exciting game, running after the pray and waiting for the right moment to attack. 

He dressed well for the occasion. Deep blue kimono, with pale obi. Two tigers circle each other on it deep in a power battle. Their mouths roaring, showing sharp teeth. Almost like a battle armor. It’s a pity he won’t be seen.

He’s close to her door, he can smell the lingering fragrance of the tobacco. Apples. Just like the old man. He pauses, rubbing his fingers nervously, switching center from one foot to the other. 

“Barabashka.” That’s what the old man said when he first saw Yuri. “Peace and order. Reward the house.” The last words he said, the only ones that Yuri took on the travel with himself.

_Damn it! Why now? Did the travel to the onsen and the cast charm on the owner tire me out so greatly? Maybe that’s why I’m so weak?_

He frowns and steps closer to the door. Light is soaking into the paper wall like egg yolk into milk.

_Is she still up? That’ll complicate things considerably… A challenge it is then._

He slips the door quietly a bit and enters. The woman turns from her table and sees a tiger moth flying in the room, but doesn’t notice the door opened slightly. She’s writing a poem. A haiku. There are papers scattered around her, brushed carelessly cast aside. It’s a miracle she didn’t tarnish the tatami. 

The lamp on the floor bathes her features, he furrowed brow. It’s shaped alluringly, shows how her forehead is formed. She bites her lip in concentration and drops the brush on the paper in frustration. He flies closer and lands on the wooden ceiling beam above her. He is able to see what she’s working on.

The poem is talking about magic and...him. It’s abstract, but very clear at the same time. She takes of her headband and washes her stained hands in a nearby bowl. The water is clouded black like the deepest night. Then she rubs her neck lost in thought, trying to release the tension that seeped to her shoulder during the hard day. 

“Yuri.” She whispers, barely audible, obviously letting the empty room know what she’s thinking on.

_Oh. So she does finds me attractive. Interesting. I can work with that._

He descends on the lamp, large shadow flickers over the walls. She doesn’t seem to notice, too preoccupied with her thoughts. He waits a little more, deciding how to proceed. Up close he can see more of her body. She is mostly naked apart a fundoshi. 

She lays on the futon, sprawled like a tasty blushing crab. No further invitation is needed, the course is served. He flutters over to her futon and then sits at her side watching her under the invisible protection.

Her breasts are gorgeous, but her hands find them sooner than his can, so he sits back and enjoys the show. She kneads them softly, squeezing her nipples making them pert. Her breathing grows deeper and slower. Yuri finds he’s adjusting his to hers. He lays down next to her side and braces himself on one elbow and leans over her slightly, careful not to touch her. For now.

She guides her hands over her middle and palms herself over the soft cotton. A little moan escapes her blood filled lips as she bit them raw before. Yuri finds her abandoned nipples lonely, so he takes his drive as a final queue. He leans closer and seals one with his mouth.

She gasps. A quick glance down and he is sure it’s welcomed, because her fingers clutch stronger on the undergarment and are fast to free her from the obstruction. 

_Splendid. Delightful._

He grins and sucks on her nipple, flicking his tongue over the puckered bud. She gasps again and grabs with one hand on the sheets. The other slips over her folds and her legs spread wide apart. Yuri feels heat crawling upon his cheeks and pouring into his groin. He has to be very careful now to stay part of her fantasy and not make her realize he’s actually there.

He frees himself from his kimono, making sure that no fabric can brush against her body. A brief touch of skin or gentle caresses can be interpreted as wishful thinking and he intends to make the full potential of such use. He settles back to her just in time. Her fingers dance over her spot, rolling the small glistening bead. There is space left below it and he makes the journey to it with anticipation. As he traces his fingertips over her belly, she is twisting underneath him, flinching a little when he tugs at her earring with mouth.

She feels hot under his touch and his groin hurts. He’d really like to dive into her, but this night is the edge of a knife he has to balance on. Out of his own choice. He really doesn’t like to disappoint himself. Therefor he dives in deep with his fingers.

Her eyes fly open wide just as her legs a little more. Her thighs shake and she’s choking down a whimper. She feels exquisite, burning and velvety. He’s almost frightened she’ll brand him and he'll carry of a mark from this encounter. He flicks his tongue over her earlobe, making her flinch again and uses her wavering concentration to push his fingers deeper inside her entrance. Her walls close around him on instinct and he rocks them in a steady rhythm. She either worked herself up well or his touch is really that good, because she is a fucking well. Leaking and threatening to flood them both on the futon. 

Her own hand works on her place like rolling a glass bead with fingertip on the floor. Her tobacco fragrance fills his hair and has hard time not to lean in and suck on her mouth. Instead he latches onto her breasts again and flexes his fingers inside of her looking for that special spot. Her body arches momentarily and when he makes a few firm strokes, bumping into the area that made her freeze - he knows she’s a goner.

“Yuri!” She cries out in her release and tears adorn the corner of her eyes. She falls back on the futon, limp and powerless and he rushes away from her as fast as he can - a moth disappearing into his rented quarters. He’s barely back behind his doors and is freeing himself completely from the kimono. Both hands wrapped around his member, no need to work himself up as usual. His wet hand mixes her juices with his own and it slides so easy it’s almost embarrassing. He is so eager to tip over he’s shaking all over and his control is slipping. What’s more troubling for him than the effect she had on him, is the fact that he needs the whole night jerking off and still not finding the proper satiation. The feeding fills his blood and rushes her essence into his brain, unable to discern her sensations from his own.

He thinks on her under his touch and the need to possess her completely. It surprises him and scares at the same time.

He’d have to think it over and regroup. As things stand now he’ll have to control the raving urge and take the newfound emotions seriously.

Taking in to a new household is familiar. But possessing someone, to become one with them fully - that’s a completely different forte.

Yuri traveled from Russia to Japan and stayed in households as Domovoi or Zashiki Warashi many times. The drive to settle in one place and find happiness with his owner was always present. But this need...changes everything.

She is tastier than any candy he was ever given. He wants to devour her.  
He want’s to stay at her side and never leave her.


	2. And there is nothing I can do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again no beta.
> 
> Thank you for the support on sprinting channel. Those guys are working magic!

It continues to rain for the next few following days and the sound fills the rooms with buzz despite the closed paper doors. It’s a bit of like hypnosis, occupants of Yutopia grow naturally quiet and go about their routines in silence, letting the moist murmur fill the moments of their day. It’s strangely tranquil.

Yuri decides to stay hidden for now and follows the object of his desire. It was a crystal clear decision - instead of fighting the emotions he chooses to face them with a full front. Maybe he’ll figure out something about her that will strengthen the off putting impression and perhaps he’ll wake up from this dizzying effect her taste had on him.

He is right to a certain degree, taking a note from the early morning on. The way she leaves her futon haphazardly crumpled says that she doesn’t care about keeping her bed tidy and nice. 

_Doesn’t she enjoy returning to her room with the bed giving her an inviting welcome after the hard day?_

Then, the way she doesn’t eat properly her breakfast at a table. Instead she stands leaning against the kitchen table with her hip and shoveling the bland rice as fast as she can. She sneaks in a piece of pickled radish and pours it down with a generous cup of hot tea, scalding her tongue in the process.

_Doesn’t she know that breakfast is the essential part of the day and therefore it’s important to give it a proper time? Is it really worth it to stay up late and draw lewd illustration till the early hours, sneaking in minute by minute before it’s really almost too late to wake up?_

He has to give it to her, she has a talent. The drawings are not bad. They could compete with the expensive ukioye in the secret rooms that some lords commissioned. He had the chance to ogle many amused by the depravity of the owners of the households he resided at. 

He also has to admit that despite being tardy and irresponsible with her morning routine, she is diligent and proper with how she works with small kitchen preparations. Her hands move effectively, her elbows always stick to her sides. Every cut of the vegetables or meat is calculated and swift. The knife whacks on the wooden board with a high frequency, making Yuri forget the rain and remember treschotka. 

He thinks on the old calloused fingers holding the small boards on a string, imitation of clapping sounds. Evenings filled with laughter at the hearth. The owner called his name affectionately.

_“Yuratschka.”_

He forcefully chases the images away and replaces them with hers. Consciously noticing her own calloused fingers, the small bump on her middle finger - which comes from holding a brush. Her forearms are strong, her shoulders stiff and he knows why she rubs them at night sitting at her table. A little massage by someone else would make wonders for her. His eyes slide over her shoulders and lock on the fine hair on her nape trembling from her movements like a fuzzy caterpillar. Her earrings wiggle, she shifts from one leg to the other. 

It doesn’t last long, soon the guests arrive to the common room, gather at the tables for breakfast and then it’s just quick back and forth - serving the guests, bringing them things and taking them back. 

Her mother and father don’t need to talk with her much, just a few words here and there. The routine is deeply rooted between them. Perhaps Yuri underestimated their dedication. The spirit of hospitality is there, professionalism as well. Maybe if the old man didn't slack off and chat with the regulars and maybe if the personnel wore better uniforms, the place could look more fancy.

She takes only one break during the day. Again not to take a proper meal, but to...smoke. He stands at her side invisible, the urge to kick her in her butt grows with each indulgent exhale she makes. 

_Why don’t you take care of your body properly? How can you maintain this approach on your health? Are you that stupid? Smoking instead of a meal. No wonder you’re so fat around your hips when you stuff your face once a day!_

He’s gritting his teeth to hold of barking out at her. Well, the rolls do give her a certain appeal. He never liked thin women, but this is a matter of principle. 

The way she melts on the porch and the smoke wraps around her like a fluffy fur coat, the familiar fragrance of tobacco - it all lulled him and he finds himself sitting beside her, watching as she swings her legs hanging over the edge of the floor. A real fucking sloth.

Her eyes close and she moans in delight. Yuri wishes to kiss her eyelids and steal her pursed lips, smoke or not. But she is called away. Just a few desperate drags and she again leaves the pipe on the tray.

Yuri doesn’t follow her this time. The door barely slides behind her and the pipe is between his lips, the tongue chasing the lozenge flavor. He takes the smoking utensils and enters her room, taking in the chaos she left behind. His fingers twitch and he’s grinding his teeth again. 

_Ah, fuck it!_

It takes about a half an hour of furious activities. He airs the futon, smacks the hell out of it, biting the pipe as he leans to use his whole force on the whacking. He spreads it back on the tatami floor, tucks in the cover and fluffs up the pillow. He collects the papers scattered on the floor and almost forgets himself ogling some of the drawings, when an illustration of two women pleasuring each other falls out of the stack. Perhaps another time. Next are her discarded clothes and painting tools. Books. At some point he discovers there is a comb hidden underneath her pillow. Full of hair… Yuck! He cleans it as well and puts it away on the vanity with a small round mirror. Then he’s done.

The room is squeaky clean and he feels the familiar burn on his cheeks, the blush of satisfaction.

 _There! That’s more like it!_

He’d pat himself on the shoulder if he could. After a stop, he does. He has to admit it’s nice to lay a hand on the cleaning in a house. The decades watching after the help and servants cleaning allowed him at most to just brush his finger on the surface and do the dust test. The excited sensation pumped into his limbs is exhilarating. Such is the reward from physical work and the fruit of the proof left behind.

His domovoi instinct is sated and beaming. 

The whack of the door sliding to a stop startles him to attention and he freezes despite knowing he is invisible to any human eyes at the moment.

Mari walks inside, stops and looks a little stupefied. She wipes he face with a palm with a deep sigh and leaves the room in disbelief.

Yuri feels the hair on his neck rise and smacks his lips in displeasure. He narrows his eyes and stamps the floor firmly with one leg.

_What insolence! After I cleaned her whole room! She just...walks away?! What the fuck?! Ooooh, no. Not on my watch!_

Following the trail of her tobacco scent is easy for him and he finds her in the baths. She is already undressed and about to step under the stream of water in a bamboo stall. He intends to show her some really good zashiki warashi-ness. Play some tricks on her, like dropping the bucket or kicking away the stool. Nothing is better than pulling a prank on ungrateful family member of a household. Nothing is more insulting for a house spirit, whose help is not appreciated.

Malevolence whispers him a better idea, he takes a towel, rolls it tightly and steps behind her, almost hearing the loud smack as it would land on her plush behind. Yet, his hands let it loose and it unfolds like a moth hit by a damp fog. Different kind of drive tempts him to let his kimono slip down his shoulders and step into the stall behind her.

She pulls a level and the water starts flowing on her in a steady stream. She rubs her shoulders in discomfort and rests her palm on the wall.  
_Oh._

Yuri understands. She is tired and sore to even think clearly. She probably really thought it’s just her imagination. It’s not ungratefulness. And well… she didn’t know he did it for her. 

Her frame hunched forward allows him to observe her back and watch the water trickle down the small valley of her small back. It falls between her cheeks as a waterfall covering an alluring cave. It hugs her thick thighs and swirls around her strong calves.

“Ow.” 

She exhales weary. 

Without thinking Yuri reaches out and starts to rub small circles into her shoulders under the protective stream of water. She stills a little but relaxes quickly. She rests her forehead on her arm and moans pleased by the massage. Oh, how Yuri wishes to let her know it’s not just the warm water. That he’s very much willing to do more than just cleaning her room. Yet he bites his lips and dares to slide his hands down her shoulder blades to work on particularly bad knot.

“Mmmh.” 

She stretches a bit like a cat. Her spine arches so nicely under his touch. Her hand leaves the wall and swipes her front. Yuri needs just a peek over her shoulder to see she is playing with her breasts just like the few days ago. He hesitates, leaving his hands on her back and watches for any sign of startling. He doesn’t even realize the water is trickling down his face and that he’s holding his breath. She let’s her fingers slide between her folds like a bookmark lands between the worn out pages of a favourite passage of a book. Easy and sure.

“Ah!“

Low gasp comes from deep inside her and he doesn’t need a second more to become fully hard, flushed and throbbing. He rolls his lower lip under his teeth in contemplation and leans carefully onto her. She presses her forehead on the wall and her fingers tease her peak. How lovely and pliant she is just from few of his caresses!

As if on instinct she spreads her legs and his palm cups her like a finest chamois glove. A soft cry escapes her lips and she mumbles something he can’t hear for the fizzling stream above their heads. Yuri sends a thankful prayer to the gods that his fingers find her obstruction free entrance and they slide inside her like tongue into an overripe peach. He’s not sure if the water’s gone cold or if he’s misled by the lava pouring out of her. She’s molten under his touch. 

Something about her posture and sobs growing louder stirs him inside and it urges him on to be more bold. He presses onto her with his full body, the fingers penetrate her deeper to the knuckles and only her outer lips stop him from further progress. 

The rough notion makes her buckle her knees and she’s pressed on the wall under his weight. He stumbles after her, flicking his wrist in the process unwavering, set to bring her the utmost pleasure. Yuri feels almost trapped and pulled to her like a month. A prisoner by her warmth clawing to his hand. And not like he’s the one assaulting her under the pretence of fantasy mingled with the fatigue.

Yuri doesn’t even have to engage any magic, doesn’t have to pull any strings to twist her perception. She is so lost to the encounter, drifting the wave, that her own hand chases after the release in tandem with hers. This woman whimpering underneath him, working her human body so hard and wearing it out - Yuri wants to kiss it, replenish and nurture it. Give it peace and order. Sink in it like into the warmest home. 

In a rush of the heat he grabs one of her breasts firmly and curves his fingers just right so that her legs start to tremble and she gasps in desperation, her pretty eyebrows twisted from the stimulation. She takes Yuri’s breath away and he doesn’t think. At all. She is all that matters, his, his.

_Mine, mine!_

If he could he’d sink into her skin right then and now. Latching onto her is not enough, his eyes gleam fervently, hungry locked onto her face. He watched her wet lips part and calling his name, jolting, hanging from his hands.

“Yuri!”

It hurts, his heart clenches painfully. He shudders. Overwhelming release crops her behind and he chokes, half kissing and half exhaling her name in return to her ear.

“Mari.”

He supports her gently as she glides on the floor. Barely resists to collapse onto her lush bosom and tries hard to shake off the shudders. She’s wiping her face from the water with futile attempt to clear her vision. It’s the awakening to the reality, which comes hard onto her under the harsh rain of the shower. Yuri himself feels it prickling his oversensitive skin and it makes me want to recoil, cradle her in his arms. He wants nothing else than to take her to his bed and wrap his arms around her. Perhaps let her do the same in return.

Yet he watches her for a moment more, sees her wrap her hands around herself and his release washing off of her down the drain.

 _”Maybe one day you’ll find yourself a nice kikimora, huh, Yuratschka?”_ The old man’s words ring in his head and he balls his fist, shaking it a little in a silent battle and lets it drop in momentarily defeat.

_Too soon._

Thanks to his abilities he uses a spell, lingering around her as she dries herself in a daze and goes back to her room. On the way there he watched carefully for every little sway she makes, ready to catch her if she’d fall. She makes it to her bed safe, sinks into it in darkness and falls asleep immediately. 

He stands above her, shaking his head. She’s uncovered, her ass sticking out of the futon. She’d surely catch a cold like this. 

_Such a nuisance..!_

Yet he feels his face is not tight, it's relaxed, so he’d not even able to fool himself. He tucks her in and makes sure she’d comfortable. When he brushes a strand of her hair behind her ear, he smiles. But then his eyes fall onto his hand. It’s almost blended with the dark color of her hair.

He’d dissolving.

There is no waiting room in this house. No one is waiting for him. He wasn’t invited and asked to stay. There is no candy and no home offered for him to stay at.

He feels so sad and he wants. He hates it so much. He kisses her temple and rest his forehead on it, whispering a silent prayer.

“Please me mine. Please keep me.”

The following morning guests at the onsen complain they heard noise from a revolving spinning wheel. Some could swear they heard a kagura performance, the little bells ringing through their room at the early dawn.

No one can explain, someone mentions jokingly it must be a zashiki warashi playing tricks on the household. It makes sense, because the Katsukis seems to be happy and prosperous in their own way. The mood relaxes after the mention and people laugh over the breakfast. Toshiya indulges in theories and exchanging information on how the spirit manifests in different prefectures. It’s a quick way to slip into a friendly quarrel among him and the guests. Everyone is sure their story is the correct one.

Only the young man in the corner of the mainroom ducks his head over the breakfast bowl and doesn’t join the conversation.

Hiroko notices and send her daughter to serve him some leftover candy from yesterday’s dinner. It’s a simple pink mochi shaped like a flower, small yellow middle target. All fuzzy from thin layer of starch. By far not so elaborate at the dishes of the lords he considered as his owners in past. Yet it’s brought to him with demure gesture and Mari locks eyes with him when she puts it in front of him on the table. She doesn’t look at guests straight like that.

Yuri reciprocates with a soft smile. She bows he head a little and leaves the table reluctantly.

He was given candy.

All hope is not lost.


	3. Sway me smooth, sway me now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta. Barely run it through the edit. TAT Really wanted this done and out of my head.  
> Had quite a rough week and it's still not over OTL.
> 
> Added some more tags to be more concrete on the content, but the rating stayed the same.  
> There is consent! Woohoo!

Yuri doesn’t eat the candy all at once. He keeps it aside and eats it in little pieces during the next couple of days. It’s enough to keep him replenished and his hands aren’t transparent anymore. The kind gesture - the family giving him an offering - is what saves him from disappearing. He could have left with some guest and settle in a new house, but it wasn’t an option. The effect is stronger too because it was Mari who brought him the small desert. 

He still follows her around under the invisible veil and does little things for her. The itch inside to clean the room and add a lending hand in the housework is hard to keep down. He fluffs up her pillow and tucks in her futon once she leaves the bed in the morning. When last guest leaves the main room and she goes to pick up the last tray, she finds none only to return to the kitchen and find it stored away in the sink. When she’s about to cut the vegetables, chopped carrots flowers greet her on the counter. 

All these little things done by him pass by as something someone else might have done, but it brings her little closer to perceive the intangible, lean a little more to believing into his presence. If he really wants to stay here and possess her, he has to be very careful. This family didn’t bury a golden ball under the floors. They didn’t plan to attract a zashiki-warashi. That’s why it spends him so much in the first place. A spirit uninvited and unwanted does have to exert a lot of energy to stay among humans like that. 

Yuri as a domovoi doesn’t feed on blood or killing. Humans always rush after fortune and will do unimaginable things to keep a spirit like him in their good graces. But it’s also the same thing that puts him off. Greed. It’s a blessing in disguise. The Katsukis. Such a peculiar family. He’s reflex to use his influence is dulled. The frustration makes him feel like a sharpened sickle having no grass to cut.

Every night he watches her as she hunches above her desk and paints inventive shunga. He admires the illustrations looking over her shoulder. Sometimes she draws beautiful women breastfeeding a baby, or girls playing with stripes cats. On an occasion he thinks on which color would fit for the obi she’s working on only to see her reaching for that exact color. It makes him smile, because it seems that they have the same taste. At least when it comes to art and smoking.

Her clothing leaves much to desire, but she can’t really wear anything else than her working uniform. It doesn’t mean the horrid dark fleshy pink doesn’t make him cringe. 

_It’s so… boring._

When she’s brushing her hair - really - it can be hardly called as brushing because she’s literally tugging her comb through her mane without any regard to herself. He’s pissed and torn between grabbing it from her hands or kicking her in her back for how unkind she is on her own body. He could understand that she’d not interested in making herself pretty, but ruining her hair like this is bordering on self mutilation. He literally prays for her to finish fast and the next day she can’t find the comb at all, so she settles on pulling a headband over the mess and hurries to begin her day. 

He is used to misplacing objects to trick the residents and pull pranks on them. But he feels like he’s stealing from her. It’s new to him. He wishes to talk to her more, not just observe her. After the first intimate moments with her something changed and he knows he wants more. He’s sure that if they’ll grow close it will be very different. So when he sees her particularly relaxed on the porch again, he steps out of the shadow and brings a bunch of grapes. 

She grows a little rigid but her eyes glint. He’s not sure if it’s him or the grapes. It’s not easy to acquire them and they are very expensive. He has to fight back the smile and tried to appear nonchalant.

“I brought this. As thanks... for the pipe. Can I join you?” He steps in closer towering over her sitting form. She’s taken aback, but rushes to drag the cushion from behind her to the side, offering him a seat. It’s worn out and paled. He sighs internally.

_Can they be more cheap than this? Just how many times was this washed...I can almost see the filling, it’s so frayed._

“Yeah, yeah. Please! Go ahead. Sit!” She blurts out in a rush and then pinches her forehead trying to get a grip. He has to fight back a smile again, he fails.

“Thank you. Please, have some.” Yuri slides the bowl with grapes towards her, the sound imitating burning logs in an oven and pot of soup grinding over them. She doesn’t wait too long and takes one grape to revel in the knack when she bursts it in her mouth. She actually drums the boards with her feet in excitement. If this means a bunch of grapes makes her so excited, he’ll have to think on starting a full vineyard.

“Can I borrow a pipe? I forgot mine...” He tries the waters.

“Ah, I don’t have more on me at the moment. Just...mine.” 

Mari ticks her forefinger on the resting pipe to make a point. He makes one too. He traces her pipe with a finger from the other end almost meeting hers, speaking with a lower voice.

“I don’t mind.”

She catches on, her cheeks flush slightly and only nods a little.

He can’t wait to taste the lozenge flavor. It’s comical how it got him hooked. His friends would laugh, but he wouldn’t mind. They sit beside each other for a while. She takes few more grapes reluctantly and he puffs out the smoke. It’s nice, relaxing. He almost forgets what he came for, but then his eyes land on the last grape in the bowl and he notices she reached out for it but decided last moment not to take it.

_Is she embarrassed? Why?_

She sees his eyes narrow in annoyance and answers his nonverbal question after clearing her throat. 

“It’s the last one. You haven’t had any yet. I forgot to stop.” 

She’s already gathering her composure and is sitting up straight patting her thighs nervously. Yuri wants to tease her. It’s so much fun. He plucks the last grape with the small branch and rolls it in front of his face examining it as if it were an expensive jewel.

“Do you want it?”

He locks gaze with her. Mari sucks in breath and worries her lips with teeth in contemplation. Her dark eyes fathom what the question is really about. He’s curious what she’ll do. He hopes for it.

“Yes.”

It takes all of his willpower not to flung himself on her. Instead he escorts the grape close to her face and rests it on her lower lip. It kisses her lips instead of him and she parts them for him. The grapes slips easily through them with a quiet plop and his forefinger dabs into her soft wet mouth briefly. He pulls it out reluctantly and leans in, hearing the crack of the grape. It’s so loud it’s almost obscene. 

Mari watches him get close all the time and doesn’t move an inch away. Her eyelids grow heavy when he’s but a touch away. She chews slowly and the juice escapes her mouth, so he traces a finger to wipe it. He decides to be bolder. It’s too tempting to resist.

“Will you show me your room?” He whispers to her mouth, brushing his lips with hers. The thirst gets the better of him and he laps after the wetness on the corner of her lips. 

_Sweet. Sour._

She's so soft and rough at the same time. Just a little brush against her face and he want to attack her. Bite. Eat and get his fill. If he'd be a tiger, the floorboards would be engraved by his claws. He'd be ripping her pants away and tearing her flesh away with his teeth. Instead he nibbles on her lip, waiting for an answer.

“...yes..” The gasp disappear in his mouth and he wonders if he heard it right, but dips his head so they seal it in a deep kiss.

He expected to get lost in it too quickly, but he has to take it slow, because the sensation is overwhelming. Like too strong wine on an empty stomach. Or a breath you can’t seem to catch when you're running for too long. She kisses back eagerly and he hears her breath growing fast as well. They part and rest on each other's forehead. She closes her eyes and whispers again.

“Yes.”

Yuri would grin wide, but he's too lost, feeling so shaken, that he can't help but try to collect himself. He'd cry about how things are developing. They kissed. She said yes. 

They walk quietly to her room. People are asleep so no one sees them slip through the corridors. She takes him by the hand and leads him in the darkness. He grabs onto her fist, smiling in secrecy. She wouldn't know he sees everything around them like on a clear day. Better than a Siberian tiger. 

Inside the room she lights the lamp at her table, letting the room bathe in soothing orange light. She lets him take a look around and pulls out her papers, just like she does every night. He's making an effort to look interested, like he never been here before. But when he sees her paintings he doesn't act shocked and she doesn't explain. 

Mari prepares her brush and before she begins to draw, she pats the cushion next to her. Summoned like a kitty he sits beside her and watches a while as she works.

She seems unfazed, completely lost in the drawing. Perhaps he misunderstood? Did she really took him literally? He searches her face, eyes clear and concentrated, never leaving the lines she makes with a sure hand. He frowns and leans back, watching her shoulder in disbelief, feeling silly and perhaps too eager.

She relaxes in a more comfortable pose. So his presence is accepted and she's not giving him a cue to leave. Yuri feels his skin itch and the sensation from the earlier kiss still buzzes through his head. He didn't imagine it.

_Is she teasing?_

Such a contradiction. Inviting one moment, almost ignoring the other. Is that a game to prolong the earning? She doesn't seem to be the courtesan type.

Yuri rests his palm on her shoulder blades and when she doesn't protest he kneads her muscles lightly, not wanting to disturb her. She shifts a little and he legs spread wider. 

He slides one hand over to her side and lingers it on her hip. It's a bit like playing with a mouse. But he's not the cat. The fact that she can see him and knows he's there, is more exciting than the secretive hideout under invisibility. Yuri slips his hand to her front and cups her crotch in a bold move.

_Nothing._

She just stops to dab her brush and paints small flowers like nothing happened. For a second he has to check if he is visible after all. The lack of reaction ruffles him to say the least, but he decides he won’t give up so easily. 

_If she wants a challenge, I’ll give her one!_

He fondles her, trying to press his fingers to her folds through the rough fabric. The friction does more of a job than the actual depth of the strokes. He leans onto her and traces his lips over her nape, watching for any signs of trembling. She was so responsive under his touch before. This can’t be much different. 

_Still nothing._

He halts for a moment, but notices she bit her lips and hesitated between making two lines on the paper. His hand dives under her waistband and slips over her sex like an animal running to its safety. Mari inhales abruptly, but continues drawing.

The more he flicks the fingers over her folds, the more wrinkly gets her linework. The sight is like butterflies in his stomach. He feels almost proud and giddy. Her scent is stronger, the familiar tobacco mixes with soap. The fine hair on her nape tickles his nose and he presses his cheek into them in concentration as he pleasures her with fingers. 

She is soaking wet, dripping already and Yuri hates all the fabric between them. He wishes for them to disappear and clings to her frame tighter. He wants to prepare her, sway her into his arms and spread her on the futon with the utmost care. But when a drawn out moan escapes her lips, he barely registers how he’s sliding her pants down and pulls her hips up. He frees himself just as quick and plants himself between her thighs, tracing his palms over her cheeks as if to ease her.

Mari doesn’t seem scared or surprised much, she follows his touches and falls into his arms easily. She is half bend over the table now, the brush laying flat on the drawing, leaving a long smudge across it. Yuri’s fingers can’t seem to map enough of her skin, his hips fall into her on instinct and he slides between her thighs. The gorgeous thick thighs. 

He really hopes she won’t change her mind now. Just an half an hour ago he didn’t even speak to her and now she’d like this, willing in his arms. He can’t imagine it would stop now. But she doesn’t. She’s canting her hips, so that he gets anointed by her wetness. It’s almost ceremonial, it feels like paradise. No candy or a gift can compare to the rush it gives him. She look over her shoulder on him and he loses it.

His hand grabs onto her hip and the other wraps around her waist, holding her in place and the he’d inside with one quick lunge. Fully with every inch. It’s too much.

She chokes out a strained gasp and they both shiver from the onslaught of the intense sensation. They sway a little loosing balance momentarily. Mari grabs onto the table for support and he lays on top of her, thighs pressed skin on skin to her. They tremble and he’s not sure if it’s her or him. She feels exquisite, melting to his touch and around him. If he could he’d sink deeper and get lost inside her. 

Each encounter with her is more than he ever hoped for. If the real possession happens based upon these sensations he isn’t sure if he’ll survives it. 

Mari clenches around his member and he starts to move, quick bottoming out paced by slow retreats. Short whimpers make a point after each one. Her behind meets his hips, welcomes the intrusion like soft warm soil, letting him plow without any reserve. She is so malleable under his body, he wants to shape her into a sobbing mess. His palms find her breasts and knead them. After a particularly strong trust lands in her, she trembles and grabs onto her mouth. With triumph he takes in the motion, knowing she has to keep her voice down and quickens the rhythm. 

After that it’s just a mad rush, in and out, in and out. The blood rushed in his ears so loud he barely hears the squelching and slapping sounds. He has to rest his forehead on her shoulder and focuses on keeping up with her movements. It must be too much for her, because she mewls high into her elbow and her slippery inside tightens around him threateningly. She’d close.

Yuri shoots his arm to her peak and stimulates her as best he can through the shaking as her body writhes and she coils inside herself. He cradles her in his arms and kisses her ear and temples. Her aftershocks flood through her whole being and he pulls out quickly, releasing himself on her thighs.

She falls onto the table and he is careful not to crush her underneath his weight. He continues to shower her shoulders with kisses and waits until their breathing grows slower. Their bodies are still hot, but the air feels a lot colder. He takes her gently and sees how she’s startled a little and somewhat embarrassed too.

Her eyes search his face even as he wipes her with his own kimono and lays her down on the futon. She mumbles quickly confused.

“I...I have to wake up early tomorrow.”  
 _Ah, she’s afraid I want to join her in her bed… It’s still too early._

“I know. You must sleep now.” 

Yuri smiles and tucks her in, drawing a line around the contour of her face and studies her features for a moment more. She sucks in a breath when he leans in close and he stops to look at her intently. He didn’t realize she is so tense. They were so intimate just a moment ago. Perhaps it was as intense on her as on him? 

_Is she so nervous about it as me?_

He breaks into a chuckle and she giggles in return. He kisses her nose and frowns all serious again.

“Sleep. Don’t stay up too late. Promise?”

It’s probably the least she expects to hear, because she blinks all in wonder, but nods obediently. He rips away from her, caressing every fold away from the cover as he goes. One last look as he’s retreating to the door, facing her and then just a well wish for the sleep.

She glows bright as a star in the night.

“Good night, Mari.”


	4. And I'm waiting for you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has no beta.
> 
> I don't know anymore? I hope where I'm heading with this helps the story.

Yuri tried to keep away from her in effort not to overwhelm her. If he could he’d melt with her limbs the moment she wakes up after the impromptu night. In all fairness, he really does try. Mari stands at the counter in the kitchen chopping the vegetables as every morning. A large family is visiting the onsen so she has to prepare ingredients more quickly and rushed through the cutting. A bead of sweat rolls down her temple behind her ear and Yuri catches it in a quick suckle. The knife slips and chips into her forefinger. The white of the daikon is cropped with red drops and she hisses in pain. The cut is not deep but is placed on an inconvenient spot. She washes her finger under the water and Yuri feels guilty.

When she returns to the vegetables, they greet her in a bowl, chopped finely and sorted in a neat heap. She rubs her neck in confusion and looks around. No one seems to notice her confusion and they go on about her daily chores, so she does too. But when she sucks on her thumb between serving the guests, Yuri quickly forgets the guilt and wishes he could tend to the tender skin with his tongue and help the healing to take faster effect.

It’s terrible. Yuri is sated from their encounter, but so much hungrier for more. Maybe it’s the fact he wasn’t given any more offerings or her addictive taste. He’s not sure himself. He has to hide under the invisible veil most of the day since he fathoms that his glazed look would make her very uncomfortable. He’d be too eager. And he doesn’t want to scare her away. 

Yet when she takes her evening smoke again, he joins her and tries to have a conversation. It’s a torture because she laughs. It comes from deep inside her throat and works wonders on him. They don’t talk about anything particular, actually about every little unimportant thing they can think of at the moment. It’s so soothing and nice to sit beside her. She pours some sake for them and they laugh slightly intoxicated. Some of the drink spills and trickles down her next and Yuri traces after it with his fingers. She giggles, but tries to be serious. She is growing aware of the tension and need in his eyes, he’s sure. Just as he’s sure he won’t be able to stay away from her. The next moment he’s reaching deep inside her cleavage and kneading her breast, watching he breath growing more labored. Her eyelids lower briefly and he scoots closer and cups her other breast in his other palm. His fingers dip into the plush flesh; revel in the smooth skin and fine nipples. They pucker under his touch, but she just moans a little and takes a drag from her pipe.

He is about to reach between her legs, but she stops him, holding his forearm firmly and shakes her head.

“Hey, not so fast… Not here, ok?”

He nods reluctantly and retreats from her. She leans in close and opposing her own words from before; she cups his bulge and gives it a few generous squeezes. She whispers in his ear: ”In your room?” Her fondling steals his thoughts and he has to take a moment to take in what she said, he fingers being very distracting. Just a small touch like this sets him of further than an orgy he witnessed sometimes at parties behind closed doors. He manages to nod and is a bit ruffled about how lost he is to her. He grabs at her ass possessively when she rises to her knees and is about to stand up. She braces on his shoulders for support and he latches on her breast, sucking so that she is swaying in his hold like a kite on a string. Mari swats him on the shoulder in an attempt to scold him and fend him of. He releases her with a loud plop and licks his lips impatiently. If he could he’d press her down and give her the pounding of her life. But when he tightens his hold on her thighs, she tips his chin up and locks her eyes with his. A stern voice lets him know she means what she says.

“Not here.”

They leave the porch and she says she’ll join him in a bit, taking away the ash tray and the tray loaded with cups and empty sake bottle. When she returns, she’s in her night clothes. Not for long because once the door slides shut, he’s pressing her on the wall and resuming where he left off. Her skin is assaulted inch by inch by his attention and he knows he’s rushing, that he’s impatient and all his resolution is gone. Yet he can’t help it, thinking he’s not the cat in this game. Instead he feels like a hummingbird caught in her wrist, earning after the nectar she seems to seep with. She doesn’t mind and he is very glad, because he’s not sure if he’d handle her disappointment or displeasure well. It’s not about his pride but the genuine drive to sate her at all costs.

Yuri falls deeper when she unwinds; the headband comes off and releases her unkempt mane. It frames her face and he is itching to card through them. Her top gone and he is lost to the sight in front of him, alluring breasts wait for his touch to make them perky. He succumbs so easily, when she swallows his tongue in her mouth and notices he’s laying on the futon only when she’s straddling him like a horse. Luscious, strong Amazonian, squeezing his hips with strong thighs. She could crush him easily, he is sure. Mari doesn’t seem to lose time and simply yanks his pants down a little and grabs a hold of him. Then she does something so amazing and cruel at the same time.

She strokes him a few times, spreading his precome on him and lets go. He almost asks her not to stop, but she scoots higher and then he’s crushed under her wet folds, stroked by them, rubbed raw if she weren’t sleeking him up with her juices. He bites his lips, but chokes when her fingers find his nipples and pinch them playfully in tandem with her shallow rocking. He falls deeper, deeper in the well, where no light of the day can reach him and yet he sees the stars from the bottom looking up. They prickle down his skin and pierce his lungs, allowing him barely to breath. Mari knows how to pluck at his strings just right and make him sing like the trapped canary in a cage. 

And so he desperately clings to her hips and grabs them stronger then he should. He wants to be gentler with her, but she seems to have her own mind about how she wants to be handled. It hurts. He’s about to cry, how gorgeous and soft she feels on his sensitive skin, making him burn. He’s lost and can’t help but earn to rush in and fall into the lava despite any consequences. If she’d tell him to beg he would. In fact he does before he even realizes.

“Please…” Her hips sway, a swing on a tree and almost evil childish smile twists her lips. He just wants to be good for her! How will he let her know?

“What do you want? This?” She rocks erratically, stops as she speaks searching his face. Yuri’s chest is tight, the bars of the cage close in and he’s but a flapping bird in her hand. He’s sure his heart will burst and break out from his chest if she tortures him a minute longer. He chokes out jerking her closer to him in reflex, afraid of her disappearing from his hold.

“Yes.”

“Tell me, my sweet boy. What. Tell me.” What a cruel mistress descended on him, but Yuri doesn’t want it any different. He wanted to be soft for her, the gentlest porcelain, just like she feels in his arms – a delicate cup. But she’s unyielding, unwrapping him more and more, calling him sweet and hers. And so he is and answers obediently.

“I want to fuck you.” 

“Then do.” 

Her final permission leads his hands like invisible command, a powerful curse. Yuri elevates her just enough so he can get some space in between them and bottom out to her that his behind leaves the floor and she jerks with a loud gasp. From there on it’s a battle between them, who meets the other first, who presses the other down sooner. Vicious dance of bodies clamped to each other. The friction and rising heat robs Yuri of his sensible mind, he forgets everything and feels as a rabbit running through the woods, chasing for safety and he wants to sink deeper into the hole, disappear and be swallowed whole. Mari writhes above him, breath fast and cheeks redder than the fruit kalina. Some kinds are edible, but the other are slightly toxic and Yuri thinks that she’s poisoning him. The frightening part is that he doesn’t even mind.

Staggering out of the daze momentarily he find her dark eyes watching him, her skin shines with sweat and light indulgent smile graces her lips. Her fingers claw at his torso for support and he is balancing on the edge. He knows he’ll fall and she’ll be watching him fly down the abyss. She’ll be high but not on the peak yet. Yuri grows harder, molten and his fingers find her bead, massaging it with sure strokes, copying their rhythm. She recoils on instinct, but throws her head back in abandon, surrendering to him like a birch to the storm. Mari grows rigid and breaks in half over him. He grapples her tight in his embrace and lunges into her rough without any regard. Their gasps are soundless and he watches her contorted face. It seems the pleasure is almost painful, yet she clings to him, her walls close on him and he commands her with urgency.

“Mari, look at me.” 

They faces are so close he sees the vulnerable expression first hand without any filter. His hand flutters on her still and she’s close. So very close. Her eyes glimmer and she begs.

“Ah! Yuri, please! I’m…”

He peppers her cheeks with kisses and obliges.

“Yes, yes. Everything!”

He takes a firm hold of her and presses her hips higher up, so she braces on her hands on instinct. The wins more leeway to move and his thrusts grow faster and longer. Mari manages to only hold still and take it, he latches onto her breast and loses it drugged like from the sweetest opium. Her tremors hit hard, shattering earthquake rolling onto him, deep in his veins and run the tremors in his brain. The pleasure is so intense he slips out and rubs on her folds like in a feverish dream. His groin is cropped with her hot liquid and his. The shiver clawing onto each other. Two lovers on a meadow on a hot summer night caught in the warm rain.

Yuri bears all of her weight and yet embraces her tighter. She dips her head on his shoulder and wetness falls onto his neck. Mari is crying. He doesn’t say anything, just caresses her shoulder blades clumsily because he can’t seem to find his voice. He can’t blame her, he is at a loss for words, experiencing the sensation rattling from her through him first hand. Few choked sobs echo in the quiet room and it’s just his labored breath slowing down for a few minutes.

The strong heat is evaporating from their bodies, but their embrace keeps them warm on the place of contact. Yuri revels in how soft she is, languid in his arms and in no rush to leave. His chest aches, it comes so sudden. It’s pain just as he felt it during this copulation, but it’s different at the same time. It’s filling him with earning and fright. He wraps both hands around her, but wills them to touch lightly. He pets her hair, tucks in few strands behind her ear.

After a while she stirs and he relaxes the hold from body, leaving her space to move. Her retreating body leaves him aching, but he knows he can’t let her know just yet. Mari detaches from him, her skin pealing of from his sticky one unwillingly and she brushes away the tears from her cheek. He swipes the other and his tongue tingles, he has to bite in it. He watches her wobble to her knees and trying to make herself decent, he even tries to dress her and be of some help. She’s not embarrassed or doesn’t seem to regret anything, but the encounter cast strange kind of sheet over them. It’s hard to speak; their bodies conversed so well and responded so well to each other. Yet the growing distance, the inevitable space expanding between them feels wrong and he could swear it’s painful for her too. He knows it’s not going to sound right, nothing he’ll say now would sound right.

“Mari. Stay?”

“I can’t. I wake up early tomorrow. Work.” She whispers as he kisses her chin, unashamed and not in haste to cover himself.

“Mhh.” He helps her stand and walks her to the door, his hand on the small of her back. He can’t seem to let his hands of her. Every little chance to touch is essential for him, he indulges in the moment as long as he can.

She hesitates and asks not looking his way. “Yuri. What do you want from me?”

The tingle on his tongue turns into a bite from a stag beetle and he can’t keep his mouth shut anymore. The need crying into his ears.

_Tell her, tell her! She is listening now. Tell her before it’s too late. Hurry!_

“I want you. To make you mine.” He says and thinks it’s clear. He couldn’t say it simpler anyway. All the details after are just logistics, they can be laid out later… if she’ll be willing. He waits on her reaction, his hand flying to her elbow and the other pressing soothing circles into her back muscles.

“Mh.” She mumbles and leaves his caresses slowly. Still watching the floor she adds. “I go now. Good night.”

Yuri always received everything he wanted. His owners knew or he taught them quickly with magic, how to please him. Anything he thought of he got it. One way or the other. If he didn’t get it from them, he moved onto someone else, from whom he gained what he wanted. But with Mari it’s different. He wants. Badly, painfully so. But she can’t be manipulated and asking her like this… It’s vulnerable. Dangerous. Because if you ask someone like this, really genuinely asking, you leave them the leeway to say no. And Yuri isn’t sure if he can handle that answer.

Therefore he grabs a hold of her and cups her face, stealing a searing kiss from her. She doesn’t resist, on the contrary her tongue dives in his mouth sooner than he manages. He breaks off of her and whispers earnestly.

“Sleep well. Good night, lapochka.”

She frowns, but escapes the room with determination. She casts him one last look before she closes the door. He sees she’s struggling internally and thus he nods with a weak smile. She doesn’t smile back and her frown grows deeper. The door closes.

Yuri stands there a while longer after he hears her steps walking away. His fits clench and unclench and he feels cold. Yet he doesn’t tied his clothing and leaves his front bare to the cooler air.

_She didn’t smile back. But she didn’t say no. It’s going to be fine.  
It’s going to be fine._

He doesn’t try to rest that night, not does he make frustrated rampage in the corridors or harasses the guests in their rooms. Perhaps he’s losing his edge or interest to upkeep his washiki-zarashi reputation. Maybe he’s going the wrong way about it. Maybe it needs a different approach. Maybe Mari needs something different that he’s offering.

He’s lots in thoughts and wanders the gardens, then the corridors of the house. When he sees a cat behind the kitchen window he lets it inside and gives it a piece of meat. As he’s petting her and naming her Potya, he looks around and notices the ingredients stored away for tomorrow. He leaves the cat and makes a rash decision. He unwraps the bowls and boxes and starts to cut the vegetables, then the meat. Next comes the rice, he washes it in the water until it’s not milky anymore and crystal clear. By the time he’s done, the sun climbs on the sky with the help of the first sunrays. Potya rubs against his calves and she gives him a queue to stop. There is nothing else he can do, the breakfast is prepared and the Katsukis just need to fry the meat and cook the eggs. He sits down in the main hall and let’s Potya climb into his lap. She purrs the moment he starts to pet her, but doesn’t revel in her soft fur or give her compliments.

He watches the hall hungrily, waiting for the woman to enter the kitchen and see what he’d done. For her family. For her. The moment for her to take a proper private breakfast and start a day as any decent human being should. Yuri hopes she’ll appreciate the gift and doesn’t realize how shallow he’s breathing in anticipation nor that Potya falls asleep under his touch and doesn’t need any more petting.

Soon Mari will come and he might see her smile.


	5. And wait until I shake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has no beta.
> 
> I slipped in some mini victor/yuuri cameo. If you pay attention, you'll see it.
> 
> There is no sex in this chapter.
> 
> It's nearing the end. Thank you for your feedback it convinces me to go on.
> 
> Enjoy!

Since that morning Yuri can’t keep his fingers away from the chores. Mari arrived to the kitchen and stood frozen on the doorstep. She looked around in disbelief, holding her cheek and just frowned for a while as she walked around, checking the prepared food. Then she sat down at the table in the mainroom with a proper meal in front of her and ate in a complete daze. As if she never had a breakfast in her life before. 

The sight sent Yuri to deepest stage of addition. He watched her eagerly, blush warming up his cheeks and looked for every little reaction she had. He smiled wide when she stopped a few times and shook her head - not able to figure the whole magical morning out. She was open like his favorite book and he swallowed the lines as a story hungry glutton. Mari was always fun to watch, never a moment of boredom with her around.

She had almost an hour to spend before the rest of her family and guest rushed inside to start the busy day. With so much time left, she sat in the garden on a bench and puffed at her pipe in delight. Yuri sat beside her and wished he could enjoy the moment with her taking in his presence. He’d like it if she saw that it was him who made all the work.

That’s the issue with domovoi. They strive to do good things for their owners and have no bigger joy than seeing the household flourish and be appreciated for their efforts. Yuri left Russia upon hearing how zashiki-warashi were treated in Japan and earned the allure of success. Gold, riches and wealthy families - that all he could bring into their lives and enjoy it too. Lavish gifts just to keep him in his good graces. Yet here, at Yutopia this old itch prickled his inside and the call to sate it was too appealing to resist it.

Therefore the vegetable keep being chopped, the baths towels are folded in neat small towers and the tables are cleared after last guests retreat to their bed. Mari wonders less and less. Yet he keeps watching her face up close, looking for what she might be thinking. And of course there is the matter or transparent hands… Good feeling from serving an family won’t keep him alive. So it’s always a tense moment and insecurity nibbling on his neck when he sees her face is tense and her lips are pressed thin. It’s not good, not bad… maybe.

Another week passes and Yuri exerts himself so much with cleaning the baths, that his patience wears thin. When Mari walks in the kitchen in the morning and sees all ingredients prepared again - he is certainly sure she knows it was no one from the personnel - her tense look is what sets him of.

_You know what? Fuck you. Fucking, fuck you! Why do I even care about your opinion so much?!_

He hisses freely, following her heels like an agitated cat. She goes into the pantry and emerges, heading straight to the counter. He can’t see what she’s doing and continues to shout curses at her shoulders. She can’t see or hear him anyway, so it comes all the more freely to him. Her hands do something and it’s hard to invest all the energy into his blowup with the distraction.

_I work my ass of here! And for what?! For one fucking cake, that’s all you have given me. It wasn’t even that good - pistachio filling! What kind of dumb family the Katsukis are? Can't even use basic anko beans like normal people. No, you had to choose pistachio. I hate pistachio! Fuck pistachio! And fuck y...ou…_

His lips purse at the “you” weakly and he has to covers them with a hand because when Mari steps away, there is a beautifully crafted sakuramochi… with a pistachio filling. It’s covered with a pickled cherry tree leaf and rests defenseless on a black plate, as if it was ready for a tea ceremony. She’s clearing away the bowl with the filling and the jar with leaves, but Yuri just stares at the dessert, mesmerized by it completely.

He takes everything back. He fucking loves the pistachio. And all that work is nothing, really nothing. This gesture is enough to push him to the verge of tears. Almost. He blinks to chase them away with newfound guts. Mari shifts the plate a little, evening out it’s position and leaves it there, exiting from the kitchen to the garden. He grabs the mochi like his life depends on it.

Yuri’s shoulders feel light, the cake melts on his tongue and the sweetened pistachio makes him salivate even after he licks the last traces of it on his fingers and his lips. For others, a large chop of roasted beef and potatoes would sate very well. But for a domovoi or zashiki-warashi, a dessert - specifically an offering - it fills them for days like participating in the chinese ten days feast. He braces himself on the countertop with balled fists, letting the sweets flow through his blood.

_It could be a fucking salty mackerel and it would do the job. Fuck, even a single uncooked bland grain of rice! Fuck, fuck, fuck. I'm in so fucking deep…_

If he won't be careful, he’ll sink so deep that he’ll drown. He knows what he's doing. At least he hopes he does. He has to remind himself every few days when a new cake appears in the kitchen for him to take.

***

During the day he joins the main hall to mingle among humans for meals. If you can call this mingling - eating alone, glaring at the others and lurking on the corner of the room like a constipated, scheming spider - then that’s what he’s doing. You could go further than that. Like counting in the tracking Mari’s movement and masking the interest with waving a fan lazily.

Mari doesn’t come back to the topic of their last intimate encounter. It’s a silent agreement which Yuri comes to sign and understand without seeing it even once. It’s a thing you just know… and feel. Her slightly frowned brow and tiny wrinkle near the corner of her mouth from clenching her jaw is enough for me to read from. And thus he joins her for the smoke or a simple lounging in quieter places in Yutopia. 

That’s one thing he’s quite satisfied about - with more time on her hands Mari doesn’t smoke as much. Nor does she hide in her room hunching over her desk. He likes to see her outside in the fresh air and looked over the surroundings. He tells her he likes the sight, she thinks he’s speaking about Hasetsu and he doesn’t correct her. Instead he is letting her talk about the town, show him the districts and particular landmarks. The chance to ask about her background is an irresistible offer and he doesn’t miss on it.

“Your onsen is the oldest in the town, right? There is some competition. Do you struggle with the competitors?” 

He crosses his leg over the other and leans back into the bench, body language relaxed but ears sharp, waiting to soak up the useful information.

She shrugs her shoulder and stretches out her legs accompanied with the soothing gnashing of the gravel. 

“Not really? Well… maybe some. But father doesn’t concern himself with that? We manage with money more or less, it’s hard work so there isn’t much free time to do other things. There are some repairs pending, which I’d like to see done before the winter hits us. But we’ll get there… somehow.”

She wiggles her hands while talking, her uniform looks more stretched than usual and sun sprinkles golden shimmer on her bleached hair, making it almost transparent at the ends. Yuri feels very relaxed and sure about working the allure. If there is anything he’s genuinely good at it’s bringing success and fortune to a household. It’s something taught himself alone, and learned thanks to years of observing people and real zashiki-warashi.

“So you’d need money to make repair and more personnel…” 

He supplies drawing out his voice and watching for her feedback.

“Yeah? But father is quite old fashioned and I’m not really sure how we’d do it in the first place. Why do you ask all this?”

She turns to him genuinely curious. Her slanted eyes look somehow larger and focused, similar to the moments when they shared the bed, but it’s different. It makes him feel strangely bare and put in place. Like he needs to deserve this openness and trust.

“Boredom. And interest at the same time, I suppose. I like to see people succeed and know how to get people where they want to be. I help them along the way. I am good with numbers, service, presentation...anything what people pay money for, I know how to offer it in such a way that they pay for it glad and more.”

It falls easy of his tongue and his lungs exhale with relief. It’s very simple to talk to her and freeing. He had to twist a bit the information to his past owners. It was always best to keep something secret and relay on half truths. It left the convenient leeway he could hide in and use as an escape goat once the time to stay in one household had run out. 

She arches her thick eyebrow and his fingers itch, he wants to stroke it tenderly and enjoy the smooth sensation. But he keeps his hands on backrest. It’s hard to define what she thinks, he knows he has her interest but doesn’t know what she’d like. It’s hard to cater to a person if you don’t know what they desire.

“Does it satisfy you?”

It’s such a simple question yet he finds he’s choking on the answer. He has to sit up straight and laughs about it to chase away the awkwardness. What’s worse she’s not laughing with him, she really wants to know and cares about the answer. Last time someone cared about him…

_In order to make others happy, you have to be happy first. Are you happy?_

The raspy voice dins in his ears and Yuri swallows hard watching his feet slipped in the zori.

“I don’t know… I think I am figuring that out.” He steals a glance at Mari and breaths out with constricted throat. “Will you let me help you out?”

Mari’s eyes bore into him and there is a strange sureness inside them, something that makes her look convinced and satisfied with his answer. She presses her lips thin again, but now he knows it means determination and it makes him more nervous by each second. He’s so stiff, he has to consciously relax. She nods and pats her thighs decisively. 

“We can try it out. I will talk to my father.”

From thereon things go very fast. Yuri doesn’t even have time to get jitters for which he’s very thankful because he hates anxiety and insecurity above anything else. It makes him want to retch. He’s used to go full ahead in everything. All or nothing. Well, it’s usually - all - in his case. He was once left with nothing and he’ll never repeat that again.

The Katsukis have a strange dynamic. The head of the family is Toshiya, the older man and Mari’s father and own the onsen. Hiroko, his wife, enjoys supporting him, but isn’t interested in the ownership questions. Toshiya listen to Mari and is very excited. Yet, all the at hand work or decision making is fully on Mari. It’s practically only a formality. The onsen will pretty much be inherited by Mari. 

She has a brother but he pursued a career as a skilled dancer on the Emperor’s court. He wasn’t given details, but he supposedly caught an eye of a foreign Monarch, who negotiated for his hand. Yuuri Katsuki married of to Russia and will definitely not come back to claim the establishment. 

The old man wants to rest and have fun, it explains the lax approach on running the onsen and the low - actually nonexistent - drive to get more business in between these old ragged walls.

Yuri is very pleased. He can definitely work with this. And he’ll make it into a splendid place. 

_Hell yeah! Absolutely! You just watch, you won’t see what’s coming for you!”_

And they kind of see it coming like a tsunami in smaller portions. He spends the coming week going through everything with Mari, looking through every nook and cranny. It’s very slow process, because the consultations are resembling a full grown catastrophe in court proceedings. Yuri has to play all his diplomatic cards and to explain to the Katsuki’s that they really can’t use the tacky and crumbling decoration in the yard and yes, the tengu mask with falling off nose really has to go. You definitely won’t attract men into baths with penis euphemism tied to the wall with rugs.

They are polite but need a lot of reasoning to remove the things. Yuri fathoms that Toshiya hamsters everything in some hidden away room and that the integration of the obsolete objects will be definitely attempted again into the onsen’s habitat. 

Mari is more tired since all this is done in her free time. Yuri doesn't need to rest at all, he feels even more energetic and forgets to watch Mari closely. He so occupied during the night taking care of the upkeep of their home that he doesn't visit her room. Not in person and not to see what she’s doing in secrecy. 

After the week passes she approaches him with papers and he figures out she wasn't resting as he thought she was. Instead she was working hard again. Yuri admires the sketches, which are plans for large paintings for the banquet room and main hall. It’s a grand project. The scenes show tigers and rabbits in intricate details. It's different… the level of difficulty is played down by humor invested into the scenes. The tiger and rabbit share a smoking pipe. A group of cats dressed like humans chat on the road. It evokes a homey and entertaining atmosphere. 

She's waiting for his opinion and blushes a bit when he's unable to. He's so stunned he has hard time to muster up any coherent.critique. 

“It's very...beautiful. And funny!” 

He feels so lame he rushes to give her the papers back and Mari is somewhat confused and awkward. Her brows gather together in a deep frown and she's biting her lip looking over her work, lost in focus. That evening he doesn't find her on the porch smoking and the familiar sight of her illuminated paper door gives him the answer. He can actually hear her swearing as she crumples the faulty drawing. At midnight he sneaks in and drags her limp and heavy body to her bed. Creased papel balls litter the whole floor making it look like a field of small snow children.

He pets her hair and traces her eyebrow gently just as he wished too. It's difficult to leave, his heart is clenched and the very act of abandoning her presence hurts. His earning to possess her is making him unconsciously form first tight connections. It's hard to break them, they reattach a new fast. It's frightening as well because if the initiation of the bond will not be completed, which is needed with her explicit permission, it will be very painful for both of them. 

The nightly routine doesn't fill him with the usual sense of accomplishment, as he's washing the daikon he notes his hands are getting transparent again. His head is spinning and he drops the vegetable in the sink. He hears some noise afterwards, but Potya walks from behind the corner so he relaxes again. 

With the sun rising, Mari comes to start her routine and leaves to the garden once the dessert is done. This time it's dango, three colored balls on a stick. Because the preparation required longer time the energy Yuri will get from it will last longer. He is already drooling as he's standing up from the small stool. He underestimates his weaknesses and barely avoids falling down.

_Fuck! Ok… this is worse than I thought. Better eat it as soon as possible._

But when he reaches for the sweet his hand is so transparent he misses the countertop edge and keels right over. He’s barely keeping his eyes open, but when he blinks them open and gets back to his senses, he realizes that he didn't fall. Someone caught him just in time. And that someone is Mari. She's watching so intently that he’d welcome daggers in his chest instead of withstanding her inspection.

“I knew it was you. You’re a zashiki-warashi, aren’t you?”

_Ah, fuck it._

Then he actually does keel over.


	6. I've changed my mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has no beta.
> 
> !WARNING: There is one scene, which is dubious and there is technically no consent - I assure you Mari does have physical pleasure and things stop before they get too far. Yuri is not excusing his behavior though - I am not coloring it in a romantic way.
> 
> Please mind the tags - this is the only warning.

The talk is not what he expects. He comes to consciousness in his rented room and Mari guards his side like a bird who found out that its nest fell down on the ground after the storm. She asks immediately what he needs and rushes to give him the dango, when he requests it. Quiet back and forth happens between them, him explaining that he needs offerings to get energy from. Then when his head doesn’t feel so dizzy, he notices she’s watching his hand.

“You were transparent. I could see through your face...”

_Ah. Great, so I wasn’t as careful as I thought._

“It’s ok now, it’s solid again.” He holds up his hand and twists it from side to side, showing of it’s moving and functional. She seems sort of shocked still, so he wiggles it again. ”Look.”

Mari pokes a finger in the back of his hand and takes it in hers looking at it intently. Suddenly she pulls at it and locks an arm around Yuri’s neck, effectively crushing him in her hold. He doesn’t resist and blinks a few times, taken aback. He doesn’t understand but something empty inside him is being filled like a cup with warm soothing tea. His fingers and toes tingle. His cheeks and ears burn a little similar to the sensation as when you come inside after taking a long walk in cold weather. He nuzzles his nose in her neck and hears her mumbling something.

“Hm?”

She pulls back a little and rests her forehead on his shoulder, looking strained and heavy. She sighs loudly but repeats herself.

“You got me scared. I thought you’re going to disappear.”

His heart overflows, he’s up in it till his ears, but he’d not run to save himself even if his life depended on it. He feels his lips stretch wide and doesn’t manage to keep his hands off of her anymore. He caresses the back of her neck and strokes her cheek repeatedly. Maybe it’s him now, who needs to check if she’d still there. Such joy is hard to believe.

_She cares. She does care._

She twists her head so she’s peeking at him sideways and starts asking.

“So...you did all those things. The chores, vegetables and baths...”

“Yes.”

“Cleaned my room and stole my comb.”

“Yes. I had to - otherwise you’d go bald.” 

Yuri doesn't feel sorry and is letting her know it. She pauses, dropping her gaze for a moment, but continues observing him again.

“So...it was you...back then, when...”

She trails of trying to hint at… he’s not sure at what exactly.

_Then? ...oh… - back - then… Oooh._

Her eyes narrow and he’s a pinned butterfly. Her weight squashes his shoulder and her hands take a hold of his wrists and she waits. The indian goddess Kali has him firm in her grasp, the dagger between her lips is ready to slit his immortal throat. And he doesn’t want to answer. 

_Fuck._

“Yes.”

“Why..?” 

Her fingers relax a little, but she’s still waiting. Yuri buckles up because he decided this, didn’t he? All or nothing. 

“I like you.”

“That’s why you groped me without asking for my permission?!” 

She counters, choking in disbelief, but is letting him go, already away a few meters. He crawls after her on all four and brushes his hair from his face in annoyance.

“No! I mean, yes?...It’s not like that! And wait a minute here, you called my name during that! You liked it!!”

He doesn’t need to see her wide growing eyes and gaping mouth to know he signed his death warrant the moment he finishes his impulsive defence plea. He might have... screwed it up a little. Ok... A lot? 

The punch in his middle is not what he expects.

“A private moment is not an invitation! Doesn’t matter how it felt! I didn’t give you consent!”

Yuri listens to her bark and tries to find the appeal of the tatami mat, counting the individual pieces of the straw in effort to overcome the pain. Mari is magnificent in throwing punches. All or nothing. Appealing quality he would enjoy under different circumstances if he weren’t on the receiving end.

_Ok, I deserved this._

“Sorry.” 

Yuri tells that to the floor, still breathing through the shock. It smells horrible as if thousands of soldiers slept on it after five year long war - and they never washed. The brocade on it’s edges is pale and frayed just like the cushions on the porch. Something is sticking to it, he can’t and doesn’t want to define. In fact he’s afraid to look at it even a second more. It’s definitely the next thing on his list of changes for the onsen he wants to do. 

_If she’ll let me stay._

He really hopes she’ll let him stay.

A soft reluctant hand rests between his shoulderblades and everything stops. The heartbeat, the blood in his veins and the time freezes.

“Just… don’t do it again. Ask me first, ok? Oh my god. This is so much all at once...”

He startles at her muffled whine and rises quickly to inspect the scene. Mari is covering her face with both hands and it looks like she’s...crying? Her form is hunching and she’s recoiling into herself but he can’t see her… 

She overwhelmed. It’s so distressing to watch her, he never gets stressed over women crying. Over humans in general. Hell, not even Baba Lilia makes him so stressed out. He used to believe that Baba Lilia was the scariest thing in the world, so scary that even Yakov shivered during arguments with her.

_Shit._

“Mari… I’m really-” 

He rushes to aid her and convey his regrets, he even makes his voice softer.

“Yurio.”

Her flat tone of voice cuts him off.

_What... What’s happening..?_

Her eyes appear between the opening fingers and when she removes them from her face completely, she’s sporting a deadpan look. Did he miss something? Where are the tears? She’s such a rollercoaster he has hardly time to catch on. He’s about to ask what that is supposed to mean, but he’s interrupted again with a firm voice.

“I’m not calling you - Yuri - anymore. It sounds too much like my brother’s name. I do - not - want to call you by my brother’s name during… our… moments.”

If she was a heian mistress, she’d be saying that from behind a fan. She’s not, so she has no fan held in delicate fingers. But he’s almost sure she’s holding one because her body is poised straight, unwavering and emits such a power that Yuri is getting shivers. The good kind of shivers. It might have given him some enticing images which they could explore in the future… If he didn’t spread her underneath him before, he’d believe she’s the most mannered high class noble woman with attitude matching her rank. He’s very much into that.

_Plenty of time to reach that destination, Yurio. Not soon enough…_

“Yurio, it is.”

He adds obediently. He knows it’s not needed but the whole situation urges him on to fill out the strange void it created. 

“Did you mean that…?” 

Mari is herself again - plain, frayed but strong. It’s the quiet kind of strength emitting from her. Like bubbling of never stopping stream, she’s strong current polishing the river’s edge surely and steady. Yuri is sure that she’d ready to overblow the banks if the rain comes down too hard and she’ll flood the shore without mercy. And then she’ll retreat, soaking into the soil, making it lush and fruitful. 

But it doesn’t mean, she is not self conscious or hesitant. She doesn’t seem to care about her appearance as other women would, but he fathoms that she’s not used to be in a relationship. She is skilled in intimate matters and probably gotten a lot of practice, but judging her uncertainty - the fact she needs to ask - it’s probably very new to her. It’s new for him as well. In fast it’s his first time that he likes someone so much. Enough to... 

The sunlight pours in the room on her shoulders, views a golden crown on her head. Yuri never thought dust could complete a picture so perfectly. The particles float around her in the stagnant moment between them. It carries that distinct sensation he experienced when he was in stables with a maid, first time sharing his bodily form with a human. His heart remembers the frail look in the girl’s eyes even though he can’t remember their color for many years now. Just now he begins to understand why humans come together, melt and have their families. That they have the need to…

“I like you, yes.”

When Yuri speaks he’s not unsure, he’s soft inside - yes - but nothing is hard to confess to her. He wants her and hopes she will be giving. And so he waits.

Mari drops her chin, frowning so familiarly and drums her fingers on the floor thinking hard for a moment. It’s a quiet struggle accompanied by the rustling of her clothes as she’s shifting nervously. It’s kind of fascinating on it’s own, because he can literally see she is looking for the right response but isn’t finding enough satisfying way to express herself. It’s causing her physical discomfort and she reminds him of...himself? Just like when he fidgeted on the handcarved bench in the small cottage centuries ago. 

“I don’t know how to feel about this. I have questions?”

“I’m ready to answer as many as you have.”

From thereon it’s a longer discourse but by each passing minute Yuri and Mari get closer to each other. Their knees touch, hands play with the folds of the other and their voice is almost a silent whisper. As if there was a baby nearby and they don’t want to wake it up. 

And so, Mari learns that Yuri wants to stay, but has to be given an invitation. No, it’s not needed to bury an actual golden ball under the floorboards. Yuri isn’t sure if she’s relieved by that or not. Yes, he’d need something from them in order to stay. He’d prefer if they designed a room for him and not let him live under the threshold or in a stove. And yes, he needs a periodic offering so he can survive. He’ll stay, help with the household and business. To the latter, Mari doesn’t say anything and seems deep in thoughts. Yuri yearns to kiss the frown away but wisely retains to simply caress her thigh and listen to what she had to say.

“Why this house? Why us?”

“It’s not the house. It’s about… you.”

_Exactly how much is it ok to tell her?_

She arches her brow and looks even more disbelieving.

“What does that even mean? What would you get from me? We enjoy each other’s body and for that you don’t need to do so much. Is your help payment for sex? If that’s the case, I don’t feel comfortable with that. At all.”

Yuri is frowning now too and smacks his lips in slight annoyance.

“Mari, it’s not a payment. I don’t pay for sex. It’s more complicated than that. I live off of the owner of the household. I leave if I’m no longer satisfied or if the owner doesn’t welcome me anymore. The latter is rare and I never experienced that situation to be honest.”

She interrupts briefly.

“How exactly do you live off of them…?”

He goes on, delicately, careful not to stagger. Yet he feels like young deer on ice. 

“On their energy, but it doesn’t hurt them. Under certain circumstances I can prolong their life… but that’s not done just like that. That’s a serious contract.”

“Yurio… what do you want from me?”

_Ah. Well then… shall we?_

He takes her hand and looks her in the eyes, all serious.

“Mari, I want to stay here. Live in this household. Be your spirit, help you with your business. And to be close to you. Because I like you.”

She hesitates and squeezes his hand back as if to give herself the courage.

“I like you too. You can stay. I’ll speak with father and we’ll set you up a room.”

It sounds so factual and flat, but it still makes Yuri sing with joy and he can’t contain the excitement. He hugs her tightly and whispers in her rough messy tresses.

“I’m so glad. Thank you.”

She pats him reluctantly, but he can feel her cheek pressing into his neck, glowing from the heat. She doesn’t speak much, but he understands. It’s all well. It can be even better. He’ll make do. He relishes in the embrace despite knowing it will hurt when she’ll detach. The bond is forming tighter, coiling around them like spider’s web - fine, but strong like ship’s rope. He can barely nod from the stings when she retracts and leaves for her day, back to her work.

_It’s fine. I just need more time._

***

Autumn arrives and Yuri lives with them for a few months now. Nature dons a colorful mantle and temperature drops. It works well for everyone, because the onsen has influx of customers, who seek to warm up their bones. 

The business picks up. Yuri has all kinds of plans to make the place better, but Mari leans more into the direction of maling smaller changes bit by bit. The frayed cushions are replaced, roof is put together and it's not leaking. 

Mari works on the paintings in the common room and banquet hall, because Yuri joined the working force in the onsen. He doesn't know what she told her family, but they don't ask and accept him as a part of the household as a matter of fact. Yuri likes to work in the kitchen and in the baths. The physical work is what he enjoys, serving the guests is a different story. 

The Katsuki women are very good with providing hospitality and service. Mari is great in those but she has a certain subtle approach about it as opposed to her jovial parents. Yuri likes to watch her from the kitchen as he helps to cook. When she serves or paints the wall, she is always patient and ready to answer questions. 

All goes well. 

At the end of the day, he joins her in her room and massages her sore shoulders. Sometimes they get sneaky and he hides in the women's showers where they indulge in a generous amount of invisible sex. Right under the noses of other guests who only see Mari enter and exit in a very relaxed state.

Their encounters get quieter but all the more intense. Some evenings the massages turn into giving her a head when Yuri doesn't ask for anything in return. Some mornings it's lazy sleepy sex. On these occasions it's Yuri who steals time of their day for a little more bodily closeness.

And sometimes when the night is sleepless or when they have parties with many guests… they find a remote corner and Yuri barely pulls down her pants and presses her onto the wall biting into her neck. They ride the edgy sensation overcome by sudden lust. She comes quick and almost shatters in his hold, but he's no better fighting premature ejaculation. 

It's strange. They told each other the “I like you”, but never return to the subject. It's easy to ignore the looks her parents give them, but the tension settling between them results in these encounters. Sudden, wild and washing over them like river overflowing in spring.

Yuri has his own room and Mari painted beautiful tigers on the sliding doors. Two females ready to attack each other. He likes to watch them when he retreats there to recuperate. Every now and then he retreats there away from everyone for a few days, when the bonds between Mari and him grow too strong. He has to rip them forcefully and it hurts. 

It feels like fever is going to lick him wet. The cramps whip through his body and he wonders if it's really worth it. When it's over he finds his resolution and returns to the kitchen. Mari doesn't say anything, just asks if he needs something. He doesn't tell her and they pretend all is well.

He is happy because they are close and he doesn't have to fight evaporating - it's his home now as well. But… as he watches her, he wants more. It's disheartening and disgusts him at the same time. The moments he swallows the need to ask. He hides his face on her bosom and fights the overwhelming urge to cry.

Mari was tasty. She is still irritating often and he wants to kick her butt. He does sometimes when he gives her the nudge with his foot, making her plant facedown into the futon. But the more he stays beside her, the more inevitable it is to direct his mind to the only sensation he feels towards her.

Love.

He is so much in love with her it's eating away at his body. It's harder to control. Yuri is not a human. Spirits are governed differently and are naturally drawn to things which caught their attention. They don't control urges well and not for long.

The winter arrives and Yutopia is resting under heavy snow. The guests don't come in larger numbers because it's harder to travel in cold. At most it's regulars who come to soak in the warmth of the onsen. The mountain on the horizon, houses and animals, all rest deep in the winter months. Just Yuri gets more restless day by day.

When the new year comes, he disappears in his room for a week. He writhes on the floor, his body being too hot to stay on the futon. He falls unconscious only to wake up to cold sensation on his arm. As if an icicle pierces through his skin and burned the wound at the contact.

It's Mari wiping his sweat away, all blurry at the edges. She looks concerned and he is smaller and smaller the more she looks on.  
Her touch is cooling, pleasant and feels so beautiful. 

“Yurio? Are you sick?”

He doesn't want her to ask. He wants her close, underneath him and melting together with her - becoming one. But he can’t tell her.

“What can’t you tell me. Yurio, what’s going on?”

He drags himself up and lunges at her. He grabs her in his arms and presses hot lips to her clavicle, traces them on her jaw in pursuit of her mouth. The need is so overwhelming and he sees red. 

_Want. Want._

She is confused and succumbs to his touch and tries to support his swaying body. His hands tug at her jinbei string and try to rip down her pants. Somehow he manages and pulls her at the waist up, dragging her undergarment out of the way. She startles and braces on his shoulders, but he's quickly working on freeing himself from his pants. The air in the room feels cold on his throbbing cock. Despite feeling weak before he finds so much strength in his limbs as he arranges her for him to sink in. His hands so sure, spreading her and fingers penetrating her quick to make her moist. He's leaking and hears her voice faint as if from another room.

“Yurio, hold on. Wait. Yurio…”

_Mine. Mine. Mine_

The blood runs in his ears like bubbling water at the foot of the waterfall and his heart hammers in his chest so fast it's hard to breath. He grabs her roughly and puts her above his groin adjusting her in place. 

“Yurio, wait!”

He doesn't hear anything and plunges in deep and rough. She feels covers him completely like a sheath hides a blade of a sword. The sharp edge disappears in her soft folds and it almost feels perfect for a moment. She chokes and shrivels in his arms, clenching unconsciously around him and he has to grin his teeth to withhold the sensation. It's hell in heaven.

He rolls over laying her on her back, not wasting any chances and he starts to rock into her. She's clutching at his top in desperation but gasps in pleasure with each stroke he makes. He's shivering in anticipation, feels the strings of the bond wreath around his lower back, pulling tighter at his muscles as he stretches them.  
Something wet falls onto her chest and she gasps throwing a startled look on him from down below. 

“Yurio!”

It still sounds so muted, like from the bottom of a sea. And then he’s punched in his chest and she writhes away from underneath him like a slimy snake. She's shouting.

“I SAID, WAIT!”

They're both panting but don't move. Yuri threads from the hazy well and slowly comes to himself. His face is wet and he now knows why she got scared. He's crying.

Inspecting her now with clear eyes, he sees her crumpled look, the debauched proof of his cruel advance. She doesn't look like she's hurting though. Her face seems worried. She's reaching out to him.

“Yurio, what's wrong? Please tell me…”

The bond sears through his insides like hot pokers. It's demanding completion but doesn't find any and so it punishes him with the same intensity he yearns for her heart.  
He hunches and coughs out blood. It crops the floor and seeps into the straw.

_Too late. Fuck._

He smacks away her hand and fights a strong coughing fit, turning away from her, just to keep some dignity. He assaulted her and doesn't deserve her care.

_It's over._

It sounds harsher in the empty room than he imagined - but falls off of his lips easy, just as anything else in her presence.

“Let's end this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is getting more taxing than I imagined and so far away from an oneshot that it's not even funny.  
> I want to wrap this up soon - we're really close to end. Next chapter will be most likely last.
> 
> Thank you so much for the comments and reading. This keeps me going and surprises me so much - I didn't think I'd get here.


	7. A place for everything and everything in its place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has no beta.
> 
> I want to say special thanks to NinZi1307 and Phayte for their supportive comments. 
> 
> Hope you'll enjoy this last chapter.

“Let's end this.”

There is nothing more to say, silence muted everything and it just mingles the breaths they exhale in a steady rhythm. The sun still shines inside through the window. It doesn’t feel pleasant and burns his skin. The iron in his mouth tingles his taste buds, so he Yuri quickly swallows it down, shivering slightly. 

_Over. Over. Over._

“Tell me what’s happening.”

She doesn’t shout, doesn’t raise her voice, but it attacks his ears and bounces of his hunched form to the room, hitting the walls and slicing the quiet uncomfortably.

“I can’t.”

How can he even confess? How does he even explain it… something humans can’t share among each other. 

“Can’t or won’t? Yurio, I didn’t think you’d be such a coward.”

She’s not rattled at all and speaks calmly as if she discussed if the soup is salty enough or not. As if the subject was nothing but a small speck of dirt under her nail, easy to deal with. It irritates him so. She does that sometimes, he gotten used to that. But it still jabs him on his ribs like a prodding finger. Yuri jolts involuntarily and confronts her. It takes him aback. 

Mari sits on her heels, didn’t make any effort to adjust her clothing. Her disheveled top barely covers her chest and her bottom is bare with dark pubic hair plain in sight on the pale skin. He can still see the subtle shine on her thick thighs and fading flush on her chest. Yet her eyelids are lowered and complete that lazy unimpressed look.

A sloth in afterglow.

_Let’s end this. A coward._

“You won’t understand.”

She chuckles almost mockingly and relaxes even more, propping up her knees and bracing on them with her elbows - displaying herself with further abandon. Her eyebrow, that soft fuzzy caterpillar, arches and she challenges like a player of a game.

“Try me.”

_Kikimora, mine. Mine. You’re a coward._

Yuri closes his eyes briefly and tries to quiet down the rushing thoughts. The bond is hissing at him and drags it’s threads down his back like sharp nails raking a field.

“I can latch onto a person and live off of them. But there is also an other option. More binding and intense than that. I mentioned this before. A human and spirit can form a contract. It’s permanent and irreversible.”

Something shifts on her face and he isn’t sure if it’s finally the interest he first expected to see.

“Yes, I remember. What kind of contract is it?”

His throat is tightening and he feels the bond whip in his core, demanding and ready to punish. He has to put some distance between them, so he wobbles to his feet and goes to lean on the furthest wall. He fights for air, resting his head, his eyelids heavy as lead. She mistakes it for deterring. 

“...Yurio, are you ill? Do you need something you can’t get from us? Let me help...”

He watches her as is she ready to rush to his side and he holds his palm up to keep her in place. He really hoped he’d not have to get to this part. But it seems the rejection is something he has to face and her disappointment too.

“A possession. A spirit can merge with a human - it’s more than connecting. It’s melting together.”

“So, it’s like sharing one body? Does anyone from the couple disappear?”

He shakes his head, trying to find the right words. It’s difficult to concentrate, he feels the strings crawl down on the floor and sneak up to Mari. He has to press back on the wall just to keep himself from walking over to her.

“No. Yes. It’s difficult to explain… it’s like… you share your lifeforce. They even out.”

Mari watches the floor and lays her hands in her lap. He tries to take every detail he sees, not knowing if he’ll ever have the chance to share the moment with her like this. If he could he would keep it in the bottle just like those tiny ships people collect.

“Is it like a marriage?” 

The last word blurts out in tortured manner, high pitch painting it’s end in desperation.

“No. Deeper than that.”

Their eyes meet and it’s a silent battle, him waiting to see how much she guessed and her trying to decipher the message between the lines.

“I… don’t understand.”

“If a spirit chooses to possess a human - the become one. The human lives longer and the spirit shorter. The spirit dies along with the host.”

Yuri slides down the wall, unable to stand anymore and his fingers tingle as if ants were eating at him little by little.

_Mine. Mine. Kikimora._

“There was once a human, I thought I want to merge with him like that. An old man, Nikolai. It was the first human I lived with and he taught me everything I needed to know as a young spirit. He wanted me to see the good things. When he was about to die, he refused my help, said he wants me to live on. That one day I’ll find someone who will want to merge with me. My own kikimora.”

Mari looks at him softer as if the gentle mood from a memory transferred to her. She whispers.

“Kikimora?”

“A wife of a domovoi. I come from Russia, the land behind the sea. I am a russian zashiki-warashi.”

He watches on startled as she crawls on all four towards him and takes his hand. Yuri feels so weak he can’t free himself from her grasp. 

“Yuri, why are you hurting?”

“Mari… please let me go. I have to leave. If I don’t...”

“What happens then...tell me!”

All those quiet commands work better than any shouting and the softer she speaks, the more weakened he is.

“I won’t be able to fight the urge to bond with you. It's not asking for permission. I’m already failing.”

She is so stunned her mouth actually opens.

“You want to bond with me? Why would you want that? You’ll die!”

He forgets his pain for a moment and blinks at her outburst.

“Mari. That’s the point. To possess and bond - it means I become mortal and die with you.”

When she’s quiet and frowns in confusion he takes her hands and tries to push her away. It works briefly and he manages to shove her to the side. He begs her again.

“Let’s end this. Please.”

Mari doesn’t give up and brackets his head with both arms, leaning on the wall above him.

“So, you’re basically leaving because you want to bond with me too much? Did I get that right?”

Yuri swallows and feels his body warm up dangerously again.

“Well, yes… essentially, yes.”

“Why don’t you ask me to bond with you?”

He’s taken aback and presses against her chest to keep her from coming closer. His hand lands on her breast by accident and his groin responds almost immediately.

“Mari. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into...”

She takes his hand and lays it above her heart, watching him closely, all focus on him and nothing else. Even the call of the bond quiets down, just so he can focus on her.

“Yuri, why do you want to possess me?”

He thinks on the first time he saw her, the way he compared her to a sloth. How her fingers always are tarnished with ink when she paints risky shunga in the night. How her lips purse when she blows out the smoke and how they smile when she speaks with guests. How she strokes his hair when they fall asleep in one bed.

“I’ve fallen in love with you.”

He but all breathes out and something inside him falls back, gives in and it’s quiet. His mind is at peace. She takes all the worries away.

“Yuri, form a contract with me.”

His hands swirl around her waist as he makes a last attempt to warn her. The pain is already falling away, the bond shivers in yearning.

“It will hurt. Very much! Are you sure?”

Mari cups his face and turns it to hers. She angles her head and whispers to his mouth.

“I trust you. Go on.”

Yuri doesn’t feel any weight, they are like feather, brushing against each other. Their lips connect, limbs intertwine. Mari descents into his lap like she always belonged there and never wants to leave. On the back of his mind he feels like a fool for even considering to abandon this.

Her skin invites his frantic kisses and bruises easily from his insistent sucking. He is getting his hands all over her body, mapping all they can and find sure place on her hips. Mari’s hair spills over her flushed face and her kiss bitten lips shimmer like crushed pearl powder. Her tresses fall over their faces and wreath with his hair. 

It feels like he’s making love with her for the first time even though her body should be familiar to him by now. Yet it all is different. The bond spins a web around them, invisible but already transferring sensation between them. Thousand burning fireflies.

They stop briefly and stare into each other’s eyes. Now he really sees like through a window deep inside the house. It’s not needed, words feel trivial, but she murmurs loud enough for him to hear.

“I love you.”

They meet in a searing kiss, her folds rub against his shaft. His head brushes over her peak with each nudge of their hips. The heat builds up and their breath grows labored. She’s willing, pliant and he slips in suddenly not playing around anymore. She sigh in delight and smiles, blinking in surprise.

“Yuri, it’s… ah! Oh my god!”

_Yes. This is what it’s about. To melt together. Be one. Feel as one._

He sinks deep, further inside and home, pressing her flushed body against his torso and holds her in place as they roll their hips against each other. Lava turns their flesh molten, conjures sweat over their skin. It makes them slide with better ease and her brows crease from effort. She calls his name on and on, cradling his head between her breasts.

Yuri breaths in her scent, lets it wash over him and supports her back with one hand. The other palms her bead and rolls it with his fingers, adding to the edge of the please. Pushing her towards the right direction, he angles his hips and she surges in his grasp. Mari bends backwards and he licks her breasts. He cucks on her nipples and trails a wet kiss over her torso. His cock finds the right pace and nudges at the perfect spot because she sobs. His muscles tremor with effort but he needs to get her in the stage of perfect pleasure. He wants it so much to be good for her. Unforgetable and not regrettable in the slightest.

The bond writhes upwards, reaching their heart and she arches more in a painful cry.

Images flash in front of his eyes. Small hands playing with the stones in a stream trying to catch tadpoles. Young mother caressing his face. A small baby with black hair being shown to him. Yuuri is it’s name. A young man pressing against him and pressing himself inside accompanied by a dull pain. Tall grass swatting against his legs, the trees rustling above his head. Hasetsu. The dawning sun. So many guests, food and work. And then it’s him… Yuri, the young man glaring at himself on the corridor. 

It’s a rushed flight through her life seen through her eyes. He fathoms she sees the same from his time. It passes quickly in between taking a deep breath. Then it hurts, horribly so. His chest burns and skin is being pierced like with thousand needles. He hears her cry and feels her fingers pull at his hair roughly on reflex.

With hazy gaze he sees a glowing tiger appear on her chest. He can barely see it through the tears gathering at the corner of his eyes. It stings, it cuts. But it does fade away as quickly as it arrived. He finds himself hunching over Mari. She lays on the floor spread and glistening from sweat. As they shiver from the aftershocks, he can see her torso is carrying a large twisted feline with its tail drawing an arch to her side right down to her hipbone. Grand tattoo of a siberian white tiger.

She combs through her hair with her hand and wipes the sweat away from her face and lifts her head to take a peek on him from the ground. Her look is priceless. Her eyes grow large and she starts choking on laughter.

_What…_

He looks down on his own chest and…

_A sloth. A fucking sloth tattoo._

“Yurio! I didn’t know you think of me so fondly! Oh my god! Hahahaha!”

She giggles and can’t seem to stop, her body convulses in a laughing fit. And he can’t even be mad.

She’s a fucking sloth, who has the most badass tiger tattoo he’d ever seen. And she’s his.

His kikimora.

They're one. 

And thus he never has to leave and look for a new home.

_Home is where the heart is._

Just like Nikolai said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The END. I'm so dead. O)-(  
> Thank you for the support!
> 
> I don't know if I'll work on more for this universe, but there is possibility to have some short oneshots - Georgi with Mila.  
> Something in the further years with Yuri and Mari.
> 
> *shrugs*

**Author's Note:**

> I aimed for a oneshot, let's see where it'll take me.  
> Music for this is [here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLTLVtgvLm08l0zpyugfx4t-Sa60S3ur8-)  
> I have further Yuri/Mari works in the series called Mario - fluffy and cute - if you'd like to give it a try.


End file.
